Reflection of the Gods
by Jenmay
Summary: What do the gods Apollo and Artemis think of Lee Adama and Kara Thrace? A premini fic.
1. Chapter 1

**REFLECTION OF THE GODS:**

**A BSG FIC.**

_Dammit, I knew I should have stayed home!_

Apollo sighed heavily, resigned to the fact that he couldn't avoid this encounter. Earlier, he had thought that a quiet walk by the river would be the perfect way to clear his head and collect his thoughts in private. Unfortunately, with the distractions of late, he'd forgotten that today was Friday, and that meant party-time for the Drunk. Well, any day of the week was party-time for the Drunk, but Friday was "Picnic Day, when all of his friends gathered by water from sunrise to sunset, armed with mountains of picnic goodies, music, laughter and–of course–plenty of wine. He'd almost managed to quietly tip-toe away, when he was accosted by a group of loud, rambunctious satyrs, who dragged him to the large flat rock by the riverbank, shouting, "Hey! Look who's finally pulling the stick out of his ass!"

Seeing his brother hoisted onto the rock, the Drunk, who was reclining on a cushion close to the water's edge, enthusiastically waved at him. "Hey! Bro! Come over here! There's a beeeUtiful piece of ass that's dying for your attention!" He pointed to the small crowd gathered by the edge of the water. "Peel me another grape, baby," he murmured to one of the willowy nymphs the usually surrounded him. With an airheaded giggle, she popped one into his generous mouth.

"Dionysus, I'm not in the mood."

"Come on, Apollo, you're never in the mood! Don't be a spoilsport I swear, this kid is dynamite!"

"Oooh! He is a cutie!" simpered one scantly-clad nyad, already three sheets to the wind. "Those eyes alone are to die for!"

"So blue! They could pierce your heart!" exclaimed another, her cleavage threatening to fall out of her dress as she leaned into the river for a better look.

"That's not what I'd want to pierce!" added a satyr next to her.

The Drunk responded by spitting out his wine guffawing, slapping a hand on his meaty thigh. "George, George! You are sooooo naughty! Hey, I bet Aphrodite's gotta a hand in this kid. He looks like her handiwork!" He leaned towards his half-brother, with a leering grin, "Well, god-made or not, he's definitely gonna make somebody veeery happy someday!".

"No thanks. I've got to send out the latest prophesies. I've been working on my music for the past couple of weeks, so the Pythias are getting antsy..." He really wasn't in the mood to communicate with delirious, chamalla-chewing seers, but, being as he was the God of Prophesy, duty called.

"Aw, come on, Apollo! When was the last time you got a taste of something like this?"

"Uh, no thanks!"

"You won't regret it!"

"I said, NO THANKS!"

"Just a peek..."

"For the last time, Dionysus, I can't! I've got these prophesies–"

"Frak prophesies! Get your toned ass over here and check it out!"

Apollo shook his head. If he didn't take at least one look at the kid, the Drunk would whine and moan for weeks, and probably bring it up during family dinners, which were uncomfortable enough...the thought alone of Hera getting into his business was thoroughly unappealing.

"Okay, let's get this over with."

"Like I said, you won't regret it."

"Whatever." He slowly walked over to the edge of the rock, while the other party-goers scooted over to make room. He leaned over, momentarily seeing his reflection, his own blue eyes glaring back at him. After a few seconds, the sunlight began to dance around his image, obliterating it, blinding him–until another, more coherent picture appeared.

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It was a hot summer day, the sun blazing over the race track. Bleachers empty, grass in the center browning, the air almost too hot to breathe. Not a soul in sight, except for one.

The tall, gangly boy was all concentration, his body tensed and focused, his eyes--blue as the sky above-- straight ahead as he pushed himself to complete one more lap. Sweat dripped off of him, plastering his short, wavy brown hair to his skull, and drenching his gray Caprica City High t-shirt to his torso. The muscles in his long legs pumped with the effort, moving with the grace of a natural athlete, in spite of his exhaustion. _So intense, for one so young_, Apollo thought. How old was he? Fifteen? It was the middle of summer break, when all the other children his age were flirting with each other at the beach or hanging out in air-conditioned shopping malls. This one ran. In the heat. Alone.

And _was _gorgeous.

He could tell that the boy's deceptively thin frame that belied a wiry strength--both physical and mental–and an iron will. On or off the track, he was definitely not someone to be underestimated. Apollo could imagine what he would be like in the future, imagining that his body would eventually fill out with lean muscle, growing from a beautiful boy into a strikingly handsome man. _Yes, he would definitely make somebody happy someday..._

11111

"So, whadda you think, Bro? Something you'd like to sink your teeth into?"

Apollo was so wrapped up with the scene that the sound of Dionysus' brash voice startled him. "He's...interesting."

He was only half-listening to the Drunk's commentary, focusing most of his attention on the water. Another boy had appeared on the track, and began shouting.

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"Hey, Lee!"

This younger boy was shorter, darker complexion, stockier, dressed in a C-Bucks jersey, long shorts and sports sandals. His black hair was jammed underneath a ball cap, his dark eyes squinting at the running figure. Puberty was only just touching this one–he still looked like an overgrown puppy, half-tripping over his feet, his high voice starting to crack.

"Lee! Mom says to come home!"

Lee ran past, ignoring his little brother.

"Come on, man! Dad'll be here any minute!"

Another lap, Lee passes by.

"Stop being an asshole, Lee!" The darker boy knew that if he didn't do something, his brother was going to keep on ignoring him, so he started jogging. "You know we won't have another chance to see him again for three months!"

"He can wait," said Lee, without missing a beat, a trace of bitterness penetrating his voice. "We always wait for him. Mom waits for him, you wait for him, and I'm sick of waiting!"

"He said that he'd be here around three o'clock, and it's two-fifteen now...Lee! Slow the frak down! I'm dying here!" The darker boy, with nowhere near the endurance of his brother, began to lose ground. "LEE!"

Lee heard his brother gasping for breath behind him. _I shouldn't punish Zak for Dad's mistakes. _Slowing down to a walk, he allowed him to catch up.

"Look," Zak gasped, "I know...you...and Dad don't get along...but he's still our Dad...and I...want us together..." He grabs onto Lee's t-shirt, pulling him to a stop. "Please. For me?"

Lee looked into his little brother's pleading eyes, silent for a moment. "Okay, Zak, only for you."

"Thanks, man."

"Race you!"

"You gotta be kidding!"

"Yeah, I am."

"You douche bag!"

"Hey! What kind of language is that, squirt?"

The last thing that Apollo saw before the image fades was Lee putting Zak in a head lock, giving him a nougie, while Zak laughingly protested how much his brother literally stank.

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As the Drunk spouted out his suggestions about how to "make Lee a man"to the entire company, the servants arrived, rolling yet another oversized cask of wine onto the nearby grass–a hearty cheer erupting from the crowd. Seeing that Dionysus and his retinue would be distracted by the new arrival, Apollo quickly made his excuses hopped off the rock, making his way back up to the palace. _Now, I can concentrate in peace!_

But he couldn't. He sat at his desk, twirling his pen in his hand, with a blank piece of parchment glaring back at him. The only thing that consistently popped into his mind was the boy. No, he couldn't forget about Lee, and not for the obvious reasons. True, he had his share of male lovers, some not much older than this boy, and he was no prude (for all his sister's teasing). No, as beautiful as this child was, something else was drawing him back to the water's edge for one more look...

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

**REFLECTION OF THE GODS:**

**A BSG FIC.**

The blast furnace of the day had given way to a balmy night, much to Lee's relief. He was sitting at his desk by the open bedroom window, a worn copy of Arthur Pericles' "History of the Twelve Colonies" opened before him. He'd been trying to cram in the details of the Picon Salt Rebellion when eyeballs began to ache, and a kink in his back forced him to sit up in his chair and stretch. Raising his arms lazily above his head, he glanced at the digital clock to his right. _I_ _think I deserve a five-minute break_. After his earlier marathon run, the awkward attempt at dinnertime conversation, and all this studying, he was finally feeling exhaustion creeping into his muscles. He leaned back in his chair, stretching out his long legs, and closed his eyes. At times like these, when his brain was crammed with two much information, he loved to simply let go–to allow his other senses to come into play. Sometimes he imagined he was at the swimming hole in Laurel Creek, floating on his back, feeling the cold against his skin. Tonight, though, the good smells and sounds of summer in his neighborhood enchanted him. The greasy smoke from a neighbor's barbecue, the scent of jasmine from the garden, and a faint trace of his mother's lemon chicken were in the air the light, floating in with the cool breeze caressing his cheeks. He could hear the sound of running water and the clank of dishes from the kitchen, the bark of a dog in the distance, old Mrs. Tilden from next door chuckling at her favorite t.v. program. He also picked up on the deep, gentle rumble of a man's voice, punctuated by the small squeaks emanating from the porch swing. Ah yes, telling the old war stories to Zak, the way he used to with Lee, before he stopped listening. He focused in, not admitting to himself that, of all the sounds of summer, the one he missed the most was this.

"Son..."

_Here it comes_.

"...A man isn't a man until he wears the wings of a Viper pilot."

_Is that why you left us, Dad? That we weren't "man" enough to keep you here?_

"Dad, when can I start flying lessons? My birthday's in three months!"

"Hey, hey! Slow down, son. You're only twelve–"

"I'm going to be thirteen!"

"You're only _thirteen_ years old, and the minimum age is sixteen. Come to think of it, Lee'll probably be old enough next year..."

Lee snorted. _As if! I'll never learn to fly, and I will _definitely _not be a Viper pilot_.

At that moment, he hears his mother's voice.

"Zak, it's almost ten. Go inside and brush your teeth."

"But Mom..."

"Now." She speaks gently, but with a firmness that couldn't be brooked. "You can say goodbye to your father when you're done."

The thumping of Zak's footsteps faded as the porch door clicked shut

"I wish I had you aboard the Scylla. You'd whip my squadron into shape in no time."

"Are your pilots teenagers?"

"No, but I sometimes feel like I'm dealing with children."

A pause.

"It's getting late. I'd better get back to base soon."

"Of course. Bill?"

"Hm?"

"We need to talk about our son..."

"They're just stories, Caroline, nothing more. He gets a kick out of them."

"I'm not talking about Zak. It's Lee."

Lee's ears perked up. _What about Lee?_

"What about him?"

"He's.. well, he's still the same Lee. Thoughtful, smart, and sweet...but he's

becoming more distant."

"Hell, he's fifteen years old. Most kids his age become 'distant'."

"It's not that, Bill. It started a year ago, when you were gone for those six months."

"It told you that I tried to come home, but they recalled me for another mission."

"Ah yes, the sudden, all-important mission."

"Don't you get started with that again."

"Bill, you can tell Anne your hardship stories, but you can't bullshit me. We found out you were on base the week _between_ missions."

Slowly, Dad growls, "How did you know that?"

"Lee and I were at Zak's pyramid meet when I ran into Major Fosse. You see, his son's on Zak's team, so we started chatting. He said that Zak was playing so well that it was a shame that they couldn't have delayed your departure a few days--"

_Yeah, try to explain that, Dad. _Lee remembered how he felt at that moment, how he felt his heart breaking, all the while trying to fool the Major into thinking that they knew his father had only been a thirty-minute shuttle ride away just four days before.

"What was I supposed to say to him? That you hadn't even bothered to call and say hello?"

"There wasn't even time to leave the base. I had to use every spare moment to–"

"Major Fosse didn't have time either to watch his son's game, but he was still there! He could only stay until the end of the game, but you could tell that it meant the world to Danny.

"Like he said, I shipped out days before the game–"

"JUST LISTEN TO ME FOR ONCE!" He could tell that his Mom was trying to keep her anger in control, but it was always hard with Dad. "It's not just about the missed games or the missions. It's about taking the time to get to know your children, to let them know that they mean something to you...that they're worth coming home to. If you really wanted to you could have pulled some strings or made some sort of excuse to see them. You're good at that. Hell, if your time was so precious, they would have come to you if you'd arranged it!"

The only sound made for the next minute was the sound of his Dad's feet shuffling. Usually his father was good under pressure–that's what made him (according to his father's friends) a good leader. However, when it came to his family, he seemed to be at a loss for words, particularly when he was caught in a lie.

"Do you even have any idea how much this has affected Lee? Affected Zak?"

"Zak seems fine."

"Zak's better at hiding his pain. And besides, we never told him."

_Zak's still a kid. Kids should have some illusions..._

"I'm your ex-wife for a reason, Bill. I still care about you–I even still love you. But you pushed me aside one too many times and I had my limits. You can't do that to your children."

"What--?"

"If there is any time to listen to me, listen to me now, just this once. You've got to reach out to them now, while they're still young enough to care. If you don't, there will come a day when you're old and alone, and you reach out to them, they won't be there."

His father's response was interrupted by Zak's entrance. Caroline called out, "Lee, your father's leaving. Come say good-bye."

Lee dragged himself out of his chair and slowly made his way to the door. _It's always good-bye, Dad. Even when you say hello._

_22222_

As the image in the water fades, Apollo sits back on the rock, unable to even move or breathe–from anger. _Okay, you've got father issues, too, so you're just relating a little too closely to this mortal. He's not you, and that thoughtless jackass of a father is not Zeus. _But he couldn't help but think of his own childhood–how his own father had abandoned Leto and left her alone to raise their twins on the island of Delos. On the rare occasions that Zeus did sneak onto Delos, it was to hide from the wrath of Hera (he usually told Mother that he'd fallen back in love with her, but took off again once things had cleared up–business of being a god, you know). While he was there, he'd take Apollo aside, rattle on about his deeds, and told him about the responsibilities he would have when he obtained his own godhood. He would always listen patiently, and even got a kick out of the tales he spun. As he got older, though, he began to dream of a something else–a different life. He'd thought about being a musician wandering the countryside; or a teacher, inspiring young minds; or even a bartender–listening to other people's problems but not having to do anything about them. When he tried to tell him that he didn't want to be a god, Father would just brush it off and rattle on some more.

Sure, "Bill" didn't say it out loud, but he, too, fully expected his sons to follow in his footsteps, not even thinking for a moment that they might want to be something else...

Suddenly, a familiar ache from behind his eyeballs flared up–

_Fire...sirens blaring...a corpse being pulled out of the smoldering wreckage...Caroline fainting by the phone...a grown-up Lee in uniform standing by the casket, throwing hateful glances at his stoic father...You killed him! You killed him!_

The vision vanished as quickly as it came, leaving Apollo breathless and sobbing.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

**REFLECTION OF THE GODS:**

**A BSG FIC.**

For the next two weeks, Apollo was in a foul mood, locking himself in his room for most of the time. When he did come out, his bloodshot eyes, unshaven beard, and bad temper that had even the Drunk avoiding him.

That's when Zeus called his daughter Artemis over for a chat.

"Hey Dad, what's up," She arrived like she always did, bounding into his den like a graceful deer, breathless and flushed.

He looked up from his scroll and smiled. "So how's my little hurricane?"He gave her a hug and a peck on the cheek before she sat down in his favorite, most comfortable chair (Anybody else but his little girl sitting there would have gotten a thunderbolt between the eyes, including his wife).

"Fine. What's up with you?"

"I'm okay. It's your brother I'm worried about."

"Is he sulking over that Adama boy again?"

"You've heard?"

"Yeah, Dionysus told me about him. You know how Apollo gets when he has a crush. He's like a girl, he gets too emotional. Maybe he got rejected, in which case he probably got his panties in a twist."

"This is different, somehow. This mood is darker, angrier. It's making people nervous. Could you talk to him? He always listens to you."

"Not always, but I'll try."

"Good. And when you do, tell him to throw the Pythias a bone. They're so desperate for a vision that they're ready to eat their snakes."

"Ew! Will do!"

33333

She first checked Apollo's room. His normally neat-as-a-pin bachelor pad was a mess, with the linens thrown off the bed, assorted broken crockery lying untouched by the east wall, and his favorite lyre–his pride and joy–smashed to pieces in the fireplace. _Oookay. This does not look good. _She ran outside towards the forest, thinking that he might have sought solitude. It didn't take long for her to find him, as a frightened satyr with a black eye pointed her towards the river. There, she saw her brother on the flat rocks, lying on his back, hands behind his head, and eyes looking blankly into space.

_He looks like shit, _she thought, noticing his shaggy appearance with worry. _He never looks like shit. He's too much of a perfectionist to look that awful. _Her heart sank, not knowing how to even to begin to deal with this. So she did what she always did when he got sulky–annoyed the crap out of him.

"Hiya, 'Pollo! Wonderful day, isn't it? Full of sunshine, bunny rabbits, and...Whoo! What reeks?" She put her nose to her armpit and inhaled. "Hmm...not too bad. I took a bath this morning. Hmmm..." This time she sniffed the air, turning around slowly as if to hone in on the offensive odor. "Uh huh! It seems to be coming from your direction–wait a minute! It IS you!"

No response, as if he hadn't even heard her.

"You've been a bundle of laughs lately. What's up with you, anyways? Punching out satyrs, using your lyre to hammer down loose nails, scaring the daylights out of Dionysus with your wild mountain-man look. And speaking of scary, did Dad mention that the Pythias are going to start eating their snakes because of you?" The mention of their father earned her a blue-eyed glare. _Now we're getting somewhere. _"So, why are you being a frakhead? Did somebody criticize your poetry?"

"Go away, Artemis."

"Or did somebody leave a fingerprint on your gym equipment?"

"Just leave me alone."

"Hey, I know! Some junior snot-nosed priest didn't kiss your ass to your satisfaction!"

Apollo sat up, his face starting to redden, hissing through his teeth "I said ...leave me alone. I'm warning you!"

"Or perhaps you've failed to impress yet another reluctant mortal. Heavens, you'd think that when a girl away from you and turns into a tree, that's a hint to–"

"JUST SHUT THE FRAK UP! JUST SHUT UP AND LEAVE ME ALONE! I DON'T NEED YOU! I DON'T NEED ANYBODY! I JUST WANT TO BE LEFT IN FRAKING PEACE WITHOUT YOU YAMMERING IN MY EAR! GET THE FRAK OUT!"

Artemis was riveted to where she stood, shocked and hurt by her brother's words, feeling the tears starting to form in her eyes. She wanted to scream, punch him in the face until he bled, tell him to go to Tartarus. But instead, after almost an eternity of silence, she quietly said, "Fine," and suddenly turned and ran off towards the deepest part of the forest.

As his sister's footsteps faded away, Apollo immediately felt like shit. He hadn't wanted to hurt her, he just wanted her to shut up for a minute. He jumped up to his feet and jogged towards the direction that she took off, cupping his hands over his mouth as he ran.

"Artemis! Artemis! I'm sorry!"

After a few minutes, he stopped and listened, only hearing birds chirping.

"I didn't mean to say those things!"

Still not a peep.

"I was being a frakhead!"

Not a whisper.

"I don't really want to be alone! I need you! Come back!"

Nothing.

A second later, a fist-sized rock flew through the air with deadly aim, striking him in the back of the head with deadly aim, knocking him face-down onto the leafy forest floor. Groaning, he lifted his head, Artemis' sandaled feet in front of his face.

"Say please."

"Ugh. Please," he rubbed the lump developing on his noggin. "Did you have to hit so hard?"

"Yep. Besides, somebody's gotta knock you off your pity pedestal." She reached out her hand for him to grab.

"You're definitely gifted at that."

When she'd pulled him to his feet, she sighed, "So, why _are_ you being a frakhead?"

He took his sister by the hand and led her back to the flat rocks and sat them down. He told her everything, about the boy, the arrogance of his father and their own, how he himself felt. Normally she was all sass and mouth, but at times like these, she could be a good listener. He found comfort in her attentive silence, finding the strength to admit to himself things he had denied for eons. When he was done, he felt freer that he had in a long time.

"Wow. And I thought this was the whole Daphne thing all over again. You usually go cuckoo like this over somebody you're infatuated with. I had no idea you had this whole Dad- resentment churning inside.

"I didn't know either until I saw this kid. He's beautiful, intelligent...he's so much more than his father can see."

"Show me."

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A classroom appeared before them, with the late morning sun shining though the ancient window panes. All thirty or so desks were occupied by adolescents with their heads bowed down in concentration, their pencils scribbling and erasing. They are marking sheets of paper with bubbles marked "A", "B", "C", and "D". It was the CSAT–Colonial Standard Achievement Test–the means by which any school-aged child with an ambition to attend an institution of higher education gauged his future. _Ah yes, Lee had been_ _studying for this for weeks. That's what that history book was for. _And there he was, in the spot front and center, wracking his brain over a trigonometry problem involving a viper and a battlestar.

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"Wow! Brains and good looks. No wonder you're flustered."

"I told you, it's not like that."

"I know. He's got the whole future ahead of him, right."

"Right."

"And the girls and boys are going to go gaga over him."

"If he'll let them."

"Ah yes, another late developer."

"What can I say? He's a thinker."

"More like an over-thinker."

"Call it what you may."

"And he's an ungrateful whiner..."

"What! After what I told you? This kid has no future of his own! He's at the mercy of–"

"Just shut up for a moment and let me show you something."

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

**REFLECTION OF THE GODS:**

**A BSG FIC.**

Artemis takes her brother back in time, roughly three hours before the previous scene, to a park on the edge of Caprica City– when the sky at the eastern horizon was turning from a dusky blue to a bright orange in anticipation of the dawn. As the sun struggled to rise over the low hill, they could see about a dozen or so youths slumbering on and around two park benches by the small lake. They were obviously sleeping off whatever was in the bottles littering the ground (_This looks familiar, _thought Apollo, with a chuckle), and probably would until noon or until an irate gardener called the cops. They were clumped in groups of two and three for warmth (the heat wave from earlier had dissipated), looking at the moment like innocent children–dreadlocked, mohawked children, with nose rings and spiked jewelry...

44444

"Are you trying to say that life for Lee could have been worse? That he could have ended up a loser, drinking his sorrows away by the reservoir?"

"Shut up for a moment and I'll get to the point. Just check out the park bench on the right."

44444

The "point" seemed to be the sleeping girl on top of the said bench.

She was lying on her back next to a boy (who his arm draped over her, his hand on her left breast), with her head turned to the side, pink lips parted slightly to allow an unlady-like snore. Ripped jeans, faded brown leather jacket, black t-shirt emblazoned with a hand forming a rude gesture, blonde hair streaked with neon blue–the polar opposite of those clean-cut students in the classroom.

The first ray of sunlight finally hit her square in the face.

"Ugh, frak me! Turn off the light!" she croaked, shielding her eyes from the glare. At that moment, she also sees the offending hand. "Beak! Get your fraking hand off me!."

Her companion (who must have gotten his unfortunate nickname from his prominent nose), raises his spiky head. "Oh, sorry, heh," as he slid his arm away, "I must have passed out that like that."

"Yeah, right." She sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes. "Gods, what the frak happened? And where the hell am I.?"

"The "where" is Braxton Reservior. The 'what...'--well, you called me 'cause your old lady kicked you out of the house again and you seemed pretty crushed. I thought you might need some cheering up, and Dusty mentioned he was getting together here with the crew, so, we came."

"I feel sick."

"Yeah, you were pounding those Pacer Gold bottles like there was no tomorrow. Hey, Kara, I know it's none of my business, but what was it you and your mom were arguing about?"

Kara closed her eyes, holding her arms around her stomach, looking like she hadn't heard a word that Beak said. Suddenly, her eyes snapped open.

"Shit! The test!"

"Huh?"

"The test! The frakking CSAT!"

"That's today?"

"What time is it?" She looked at her wristwatch. "Frak! It's after six! The test starts at eight-thirty!"

"Where is it?"

"Parthenon Heights Acadamy."

"Dude, I don't think you can make it over there in time. I don't even think the buses run there on the weekends."

"I have to!"

"Why do you 'have to'?"

"I just gotta."

"Kara, why bother. You don't need to take a stinkin' CSAT to have a life. Dude, I've seen you play on the pyramid team, and you, my friend, have got some serious balls."

"So?"

"So, didn't your coach say that you had the talent to go pro?"

"Yeah, so?"

"Dude!" Beak jumps up and stands on the table, waving his arms. "That's the ticket out, man! Earn tons of money, party all time, get your picture taken, everybody wantin' your autograph and shit!"

"Yeah, but I'm not sure that's what I want."

"How can you not! We'll travel the worlds–"

"We?"

"Uh, only if you want. And, you can tell everybody, including your mom, to frak off!"

Kara looks up at her friend, "I don't know..."

"Whaaat! It would be the bomb!"

"I was thinking...nah."

"Go on. What's more important that having the world at your feet?"

"Well, don't tell anybody, but I was thinking of joining the Fleet–"

"Whaaat! Kara Thrace–rebel pyramid goddess--in the Colonial Fleet! Say it isn't so!"

"Yeah, well, if I want to get into the Fleet Acadamy, I need to take the CSAT."

"But why!"

"I want to fly."

"After playing a year or two, you could buy your own plane!"

"No, I want to fly a viper."

"Oooh, she wants to be Top Gun."

"Yeah." It was the first time she'd ever admitted it out loud.

Beak squatted down and pointed a finger towards the top of her chest, "You do not belong in some "Academy" with a bunch of tightwads with sticks up their asses." He poked her.

"You are not a thinker."

Kara's green eyes narrowed. "What did you just say?"

"I said you," poke, "are not", poke, "a thinker. You," poke, "are", poke, "a doer. A juggernaut!"

"So you're saying that I'm good for nothing but being a jock?"

"Heh! Well, you're a smart girl, Kara, but you're not really book smart."

"And so I should just, oh, don't even bother with the options? Not even think about doing something else other than ramming my head into other dumb jocks?"

"I'm just seeing," poke, "what everybody," poke, "else", poke, "sees."

A couple of seconds later, Beak was rolling on the table cradling his broken finger, while Kara stumbled over a couple of inert bodies, making her way towards her destiny.

6:10am She stopped to throw up in the bushes. _Good...get this shit out of my system_.

6:12am After taking a good whiff of herself, she deemed it wise to break into the nearest restroom and clean herself up a bit. She looked in the mirror. _I think death warmed over is a little generous_...

6:31am Found a bus stop. Prayed to the gods that the frakking bus would come.

7:05am One did–finally! She plopped down onto a seat in the back. When a perv seated nearby started to ogle her, she flashed him her t-shirt.

7:35am _Score! _The bus let her off at the Riverwalk, where the Farmer's Market was in full swing. Casually perusing the stands, swiping free samples along the way. An piece of nectarine here, a slice of homemade potato bread there...a shot of wheatgrass juice–which she promptly spat out...

7:55am Sufficiently fed, Kara felt human again. She made her way to a nearby Spee-Dee Quik Mart and bought a large cup of coffee and a bottle of water (she also swiped a packet of aspirin when the clerk's back was turned).

8:21am _Frak! Frak! Frak! _After riding the next bus and walking six blocks, she discovered she was lost. _Was the school on Parthenon Heights and Gaia Way or Parthenon Heights and Regina Street? _

8:25am A nice little old lady (who was probably too blind to see how scary she looked) gave her directions–three blocks down, turn right onto Schoolhouse Road. _Parthenon Heights Academy is nowhere near Parthenon Heights!_

8:29am The bitch at the door looked her up and down and almost didn't let her in. Kara bit her tongue and made a lame excuse about the water heater at her house being out (which was usually the truth, anyways) and being unable to take a shower or wash her clothes.

8:46am She sat in back of the classroom, tapping her fingers in a nervous tattoo, when she noticed that everybody had two #2 pencils in front of them. _Crap! I knew I forgot something! _She decidedto take a chance and tapped the shoulder of the guy in front of her. As he turned around, she realized that he looked awful familiar.

"Hey, Kara! I didn't see you walk in."

_Frak, what's his name?_

"I like to go stealth, you know. Hey, you wouldn't happen to have an extra pencil now, would you?"

_Sandy brown hair, sleepy brown eyes, nice smile..._

"Well, it just so happens I do."

"You're a lifesaver, uh..."

"Karl."

"Sorry. Thanks, Karl."

"You're welcome."

"I think the last time I saw you was at Nick's birthday party." She might have even made out with him that time–her memory was a little fuzzy. What she did remember, though, was that he was just a nice, laid-back guy who was easy to talk to.

"And speaking of parties, looks like you had a late one."

"Not one of my smarter moves. I tried to clean up, I swear! Am I that bad?"

"Let's just say we're lucky the temperature's gone down, or else they'd be calling the paramedics halfway through the test."

She was about to defend her hygiene, when a series of sharp taps from the blackboard signaled for them to turn their attention to the front of the room.

44444

"Just look at her, Apollo. She's a dirty kid from the wrong side of town, whose mother hates her and a father who abandoned her. The alcohol, the pointless partying, the useless friends–and still, all she wants is something better. You and that boy are a lot alike. You both gripe about what you don't have, when you should thank the Fates for what you do.

"Yeah, it sucked not having Dad around much when we were growing up, but we had the coolest Mom, who loved us and raised us both. And even though he wasn't there day in and day out, Dad always looked out for us, protected us from the Wicked Stepmom, and gave us a home."

"He did that because he had to."

"No, he didn't! As for him railroading you into a career as a god–don't you tell me that you don't enjoy it! For example, I saw your face last month, when the All-Aquarian Children's Choir sang that hymn they wrote themselves. You positively glowed!"

"I didn't glow!"

"Did too!"

"They were extraordinarily talented. The harmony of their voices–"

"Was all for you. See, you got to inspire the rug-rats and get love in return. By the way, didn't they win that competition?"

"By a landslide."

"With a little help."

"No...well, maybe a little."

"See, you love it! Now, see how your pet's going to do."

He closed his eyes and concentrated. Unlike the unbidden prophecy from two weeks ago, this vision came upon him smoothly, like a daydream.

"He'll be a pilot, just like his father–actually, better than his father. First the Fleet Academy, then War College, and then a Battlestar."

"And he'll be loving every minute of it."

"Well, not every minute of it, but..." He peered into the vision even closer. _It has nothing to do with his father–flying is in his blood. He'll love the freedom, the power, pushing his abilities to the limit with Starbuck at his side...hey, wait a minute..._Apollo slipped back to reality, a smile playing on the edges of his mouth. _It figures. My interests and Artemis' always seem to intermesh. _He peered into the water at his sister's dirty-faced angel, a burst of laughter threatening to come forth–he had an idea...

"You see, Apollo_," _Artemis continued, oblivious toher brother's excitement," Kara's just as talented as Lee. She's strong, quick, she thinks on her feet–a real fighter–but at the same time, she's so fragile. From the moment she was born, her mother pounded into her that she's no good for anything, so she's always half-believing that she doesn't deserve the best out of life. _I_ know she's going to fail this test, and _she_ knows it too, but she's here, fighting for her own self-worth. She deserves at least a chance."

Apollo smiles, "Okay."

"Okay, what?"

"I mean 'okay'." He's grinning like a madman, a sparkle returning to his eye.

"You say okay, but what...waait a minute. You don't mean–"

"Uh huh."

"Really? You're serious?"

"Yep."

"Cripes! The Fates are going to have a fit!"

"Let them. Besides, I'm a god!" He puffed out his chest, as if to emphasize the point.

Artemis squealed and clapped her hands like a child who finds out that Saturnalia's come early. Apollo rolled up his sleeves and rubbed his hands together."

"So, where do we start?"

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

**REFLECTION OF THE GODS:**

**A BSG FIC.**

At that moment, Kara was trying to analyze the same trig problem that had Lee faced earlier, except she was also struggling to keep awake. The only two things that were keeping her conscious were the importance of the CSAT to the rest of her life, and the pounding headache that the aspirin hadn't even made a dent in_. "A viper jet is launched from a battlestar from a launch tube with the aid of its own engines and an automated catapult. The thrust of it's engines is 2.3 x 10(5) N. In being launched from rest, it moves through a distance of 87 m and has a kinetic energy of blah, blah blah..." My head hurt just reading this! Was I awake when Mr. Freeman went over this in math class? Was I ever awake in math class?_

Suddenly, out of the blue, the answer came to her. _Whew! That was easier than I thought. Where did that come from? Movin' on. _A few minutes later, it happened again with another difficult problem, and again after a few minutes more. _Wow! The caffeine must really be_ _kicking in. _During the history and culture section, the language section, same thing–it was like her brain had woken up from a 15 year nap and was doing a full gym workout. _Geez, at this rate, I might even pass. _The thought of telling her mom and the assholes at the park that she kicked ass on the CSAT filled her with a hope that she previously hadn't dared to dream of. _Lords of Kobol, hear my prayer. Thank you for getting me here, in spite of my faults. Thank you for giving me hope for getting into the Fleet Academy. And thank you, thankyouthankyouthankyou Apollo, God of Learning, for taking pity on my poor brain."_

_55555_

"You're welcome." Apollo grins as he takes in her words. "You called her dirty and unloved...You never mentioned devout as well."

"Just tell me if she passes."

Apollo closed his eyes once more.

"She'll get a 1049 out of 1600. Not stellar, but more than enough to ensure that she'll have that fighting chance."

Artemis gives her brother a big hug and peck on the lips. "You're the best brother a goddess could have."

"Anything for you, Sis."

"Hey, let's celebrate! Dionysus' got a new brew he's breaking out today. He say's it'll knock you sandals off. But first, we gotta do something about your fuzz."

As he starts to stand, he rubs his chin, feeling just how far he let himself go._ Hmm, gotta stop by my room_ _for a shave. I don't think I bent all my razors_. He felt light on his feet. Heck, he was in such a good mood that the prospect of spending time with the Drunk didn't even bother him at all. Besides, life was good.

_And Lee gets a 1520, without any help from me._

_55555_

A few hours later, Lee was alone, sitting under a large oak tree. All around him, he saw groups of the traumatized, comparing notes and bemoaning their prospects. Him...he liked the quiet. He closedhis eyes, feeling himself decompress from the stress of six weeks of almost constant studyContent to let his mind drift, he had no thoughts of his future. Just the feel of the rough bark on his back and the dampness of the grass underneath him (it was probably going to soak his jeans, but no matter).

His bliss was interrupted–much to his annoyance-- by two loud voices.

"Gods, I think I might have pulled this one out of my ass!" Kara was jumping up and down, gesturing wildly as if she'd made the winning goal of a championship pyramid game. "I mean, I can hardly believe that I was able to figure out what the frakking metaphor was for 'Hercules Rising'.

"Speaking of asses", Karl interrupted, playfully waving a hand near his nose, "You smell like one. Why don't you come over to my house, take a shower, and throw those stinking clothes in the wash?"

"Are you trying to get into my pants, Karl?"

"No, I just want to spare the lives of anybody taking public transportation with you."

"Frak off!" She turned around to punch Karl in the arm, when she spotted the boy under the tree.

Lee opened his eyes, and was transfixed. He didn't see the blue hair, the lack of hygiene, or even her companion. All he could see was that she had the most vivacious hazel-green eyes, and a smile that would have bowled him over, if he already hadn't been sitting down.

Though still walking slowly backwards, Kara's attention was on the bluest pair of eyes she'd ever seen. _And the rest of him doesn't look bad either. _He looked like a square, but he was giving her a look that sent a pleasant flutter down her stomach, making her want to mess up his perfect hair...

Suddenly, the magic was broken when the sound of a car horn and a woman's voice intruded. Lee had only turned away for a few seconds to wave at his mother. When looked back, the bewitching, green-eyed girl was gone.

THE END


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